Better Now
by meganstone
Summary: This is my version of what could happen at the end of the season 4 finale. Happy reunions, including Caryl. Daryl-like language.


They stumbled from the busted gate, a cloud of smoke billowing behind them. They'd gotten out alive … barely. But not without more questions than when they went in.

Maggie leaned into Glenn, sobbing, Beth's green notebook clenched her hand. Daryl cursed, looking away. Not that he wasn't happy finding others, but he hated losing his friends.

They'd seen the damn car there, that one with the cross. They'd found other bodies, but no sign of Beth. Just that fuckin' green book. She'd been here, sometime or another. But where the hell was that girl now?

He'd failed Hershel. Failed Beth. Hell, he even failed Carol. A lump rose to his throat, the same one which clenched his chest at the thought of her. Alone. Rick had kicked her out like some sort of fuckin' stray dog on the street. He glanced up, hair hangin' over his eyes at Rick. He was still mad at him for what he did. Leaving her. What'd he think he was doing? Daryl wouldn't talk about it now. Couldn't. Not after everything that happened with Carl and those assholes. Rick had enough trouble for one day.

"Better round up what we can." Rick checked the rounds in his newly adopted gun, the one Joe'd carried before Rick had bit out his throat.

"Maybe we should check the other buildings," Sasha said, nervous legs pacing. "Tyreese …"

"Tyreese ain't here," Rick said.

"How do we know?" Sasha said. "For certain."

Rick strode to her, legs cutting thought he long grass. He grabbed her shoulders, looking into her eyes as he squeezed. "Sasha. Are you sure you'd want to find him here? After all we saw? Those people."

Rick didn't have to say anymore about those people—or what was left of them. Legs. Arms. Torsos. Skinned and hung out like some hunter's kill. Hell, he didn't want to even think about Tyreese or Beth or anyone being here.

She blinked, her eyes shiny with tears. "No. Of course not."

Rick nodded. "Then we move."

"We could stay here," Michonne suggested.

"And have every traveler come at our doors?" Rick asked. "There's signs posted everywhere, leading every lowlife here. It's not safe."

"Come with us," said the man with the red hair. Abe, or somethin' like that. Daryl hadn't quite caught his name. He stared at him, wanting to trust him. Glenn seemed to like him, but Daryl had his fill of strangers to last him for years.

Carl tapped Rick's arm. "Dad."

Rick cocked his head at the man, ignoring Carl. "To Washington?"

"To Washington," the man said. "Help us."

"Dad!" Carl said again.

Rick turned to Carl, clearly annoyed at the boy. "What is it?"

Carl pointed to the road where two lone travelers headed toward them. Michonne slid out her katana, while others pulled out pistols and daggers. Rick palmed his gun.

"They aren't going to be happy that we killed their people," Michonne said, motioning to the remains of Terminus.

"Those weren't people in there," Rick said. "And if these two are like them, they're no better than the walkers.

Daryl held up his bow, the one he got from those sons-of-bitches. This one had a scope—a lazy man's bow. However, it did come in handy now. He held it up to his eye, the one not swollen, to see who was coming their way. What he saw caught his breath. A man and a woman. One black. One white. "Fuck, yeah." Daryl smiled.

"Daryl?" Rick asked.

"Hey Sasha," Daryl said. "Go say 'hey' to your brother."

She gasped, her eyes jerking to the approaching couple. She only hesitated for a breath before sprinting toward them. Tyreese paused, staring, before dropping his bundle to the ground and running into Sasha's arms.

Maggie stepped forward, her tear stained voice hopeful. "Who's with him?"

Daryl's smile wilted. He hated to disappoint her, especially after losing her whole family. They'd find the girl, but not yet. He met Rick's eyes, wanting to judge his reaction. "It's Carol."

Carl gasped, gripping Rick's arm, hanging and twisting the fabric of his shirt. "Holy shit!"

"Now Carl, watch your mouth ... " Rick's voice drifted away as Carol turned, pulling a baby from a thing on her back.

Rick's arm fell to his side, the gun slipping from his fingers and thudding to the ground. He took a step forward, his feet with a mind of their own.

"Judith!" Carl ran. They all staggered forward, following Carl's lead. Carl fell into Carol's arms, the baby between them. He sobbed, hugging the child while Carol stroked Carl's head.

Rick walked toward them slowly at first, as if in a fog. Finally he reached them, his hand slowly raising. Carol watched him, eyes cautious, until Rick touched the soft hair on Judith's head. He choked out a sob, and then hugged the lot of them, throwing his arms around all three.

Daryl cleared his throat and wiped the corner of his eye. _Damn smoke. _

Finally, Carol looked up. Daryl froze, unable to move or say a damn thing. He'd thought her gone, never to see her again. He'd pushed back thoughts of her, deal with it in the best way he could. But here she was, alive and well. And hell, every time she met his eyes, he had to look away. This time he just couldn't. His eyes were glued on hers.

She slipped the baby into Rick's arms and came toward him. The others were all going to Rick. He should do that too, shouldn't he? Should be happy to see little asskicker alive. He was, but right now he couldn't focus on nothin' else. Nothin' but Carol.

"Hey," he said. But before he could say much more, she slammed into him, wrapping her arms around him and pressing her body against his.

He held his arms out stiffly, his blood pumping. What the hell was he supposed to do about this? Hugging always felt weird. Finally, he relaxed, putting his arms around her, holding her close. He exhaled, releasing the breath he'd been holding, and hugged her back. Felt good.

She released him, slipping only partially from his arms, her tear filled eyes studying his face. "What happened?" she asked. He knew he looked like hell.

He grunted. "I kicked some ass."

"Looks like they did some ass kicking of their own." She reached up, brushing her finger across his puffy eye.

He jerked back slightly, then relaxed, letting her inspect it with her fingers. He wanted to ask her about Karen and David. Wanted to ask her about where she'd been. He wanted to tell her about Beth and burning down the house, about how the girl made him think more about all the stupid things he was afraid of. Beth pulled out some feelings he'd been trying to hide, about failing Carol and Sophia, about everything he'd been trying to bury deep. He'd failed a lot in his life, missed a lot of times to rise above his hell hole of a life. When they would finally find Beth—and they would, dammit—he'd thank her for dragging him out of his redneck shell. But right now, he had Carol. Hell, he had Carol in his arms.

She leaned back, looking at him with her goddamn beautiful eyes. She puckered her lips slightly, teasing him, though she didn't seem as natural with it this time. She liked teasing him, seeing if she could embarrass him—and it usually worked good, too. This time there was something else there in her face, like she was trying to hide away pain.

"You okay?" Daryl finally asked.

Her smiled faded. "No. Not really."

He huffed. "Yeah. Me neither."

She blinked, her expression softening. Finally she leaned in. He stiffened, not sure what she was doing. Her moved in, her warm cheek a breath from his. Then, soft as a feather, her lips touched him, pressing on the bone of his cheek for what felt like days.

She broke away, staring at him, her face close enough to kiss if he wasn't such a chicken shit.

She smiled. "But I'm better now."


End file.
